


don't need reminding that we've been here before

by snowglobegays



Series: i don't wanna learn my lesson [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eating Disorders, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Louis, Louis Tomlinson-centric, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25837780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowglobegays/pseuds/snowglobegays
Summary: louis has an eating disorder and the boys find out before it's too late
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan/Zayn Malik/Liam Payne/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Series: i don't wanna learn my lesson [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1874830
Comments: 7
Kudos: 115





	don't need reminding that we've been here before

**Author's Note:**

> so. i cannot believe i just wrote a 1d fan fiction in the year of 2020 I have reached a New Low but its fine. um. so I wrote the first in this series when I was 13 and I didn't quite understand eating disorders i just knew I hated my body and I thought that I would get it but I Didnt but unfortunately now I do! so i rewrote pt 1 to be less tragic, more realistic, more personal. tread lightly if you've suffered from an ed i don't want anyone to be upset by this. enjoy my therapy, i guess!

He first noticed long before he met his boys. When he was young, coated in a thick layer of what his mum called _baby fat_. Which, that was so clearly a lie, wasn’t it? Louis was so much older than his sisters, but he felt so much bigger. His thighs jiggled when he walked, his stomach rolled when he sat down, he never could get solid muscle definition, no matter how much he played footy. He was always just… bigger. And he hated it. 

It stayed with him. That insecurity. That knowledge that he would always be the fat one, that he had the biggest ass but also the biggest stomach, and he had no _clue_ how he managed to land four of the prettiest boys on the planet. But they loved him, and that was enough, if only for a while. 

If only for a while. 

Their relationship was unsure in the beginning. Louis had met Harry, and he just knew, the moment he laid eyes upon him, that he needed Harry in his life. And then he met Zayn, and then Niall, and then Liam, and they all skirted around each other for the longest time. 

Thing was, Louis liked getting what he wanted, and what he wanted were those four boys, and who was he to sit idly by and let them love so desperately but not have each other?

It did work out, in the end. Louis pushed, and everyone followed his lead, and they’d moved in together, and they were happy together, and things should have been perfect. They all got what they wanted, and things were working out. 

Except, the longer he was with them, the more time he had to compare himself to them. Zayn was so naturally thin, all lean muscle and chiseled cheekbones and sparkling eyes. Niall was small, almost as small as Louis, and it made their differences so _noticeable_ , when his arms bulged as he carted around bags of dirt and seeds and worked in the sun all day long. Liam was a _tank_ , so big and buff and he really dedicated himself to fitness, keeping himself in only the best shape possible. And Harry was so tall that any weight he put on melted into his muscles, bulking him out, shaping him into a looming figure of laughter and dimples and curly hair. 

Louis, though. He was short, and he was _big_ , and his eyebrows were uneven, his nose was ever so crooked, his hips were too wide, his arms too soft, his thighs too thick, and he could only look at himself in the mirror and weep because he was _hideous,_ and why did they love him? How could they love him?

It was an accident, really. 

Louis snapped awake one morning, a cool, September day, and looked frantically to the time. “Shit,” he muttered, climbing over Zayn’s sleeping form and stumbling out of bed. “Shit.”

“Wha...?” Niall sat up groggily. “Lou,” he whined. “Come back to bed.”

Louis could only shake his head, hoping to shake away the sleep still clouding his mind, digging through his drawers. “I’ve got class in five minutes,” he said. “I can’t be late again.”

Harry sat up as well, resting a palm on Niall’s pale chest. “I’ll make you breakfast,” he offered, yawning. “I don’t have class until eleven.” He was already pulling himself out from under the blankets, careful not to wake Zayn or disturb Niall. 

“No, babe,” Louis told him through the fabric of the shirt he was pulling on. “Got no time today.” He hopped around, pulling up his pants, tugging on his shoes, and he didn’t have time, really, but he did make his way to the bed to gently press Harry back into the pillows. “I love you,” he said, softly. “I’ve got to go.”

He made it to class three minutes late, panting just a little, ignoring the glare of his professor. He wished he’d had time for tea, or at least time to grab a granola bar to tide him over. Before class was even over, his stomach was grumbling. Louis felt miserable, dragging himself to his next class, and then the next, and then the _next_ , until it hit him, all of a sudden.

He was starving, but it kind of felt good. Scratch that, it _really_ felt good. He’d never done well with hunger before; he got cranky and sad and angry, but this was different. The emptiness of his stomach distracted him from the ache in his heart, the ache that hadn’t gone away since he first noticed how skinny his sisters were, and how _not_ skinny he was. He felt almost accomplished as his stomach grumbled, as his head spun, as his hands shook. 

He didn’t hate it, for once. 

His last class of the day ended at six, and he was approached by a group of his friends afterward.

“Hey, Louis, we’re stopping for dinner on the way home,” Stan said. “You wanna join?”

And it was an impulse decision, really. “No thanks,” he responded, carefully. “I’ve got a culinary major at home making dinner for me.”

Stan just clapped his back. “Another time, then.”

“Another time,” Louis agreed, with no real intention of following through. 

He sent a text before he could really think about it. 

_Going to dinner with some mates from class. Be home in an hour or so xx_

He shut off his phone and exhaled shakily. He didn’t have a plan for the next hour, didn’t have a plan for anything, really, so he just… killed time. He walked laps around campus, peeking into buildings he’d never been in before, sitting on a bench and playing a few rounds too many of Candy Crush, browsing through the shelves of the library. He relished in every twinge of his stomach, knowing that he did this, that he was in control of his body, that if he didn’t want to eat he _wouldn’t._

He ran into Liam on his walk home.

“What are you still doing out?” Liam asked, slinging a sweaty arm around Louis. “Your last class was an hour ago, yeah?”

Louis flushed, pleased that Liam knew his schedule so well. He loved their moments of domesticity, of love. “I sent a text,” he said. “Was out for dinner with mates.”

“I left my phone at home,” Liam explained. “I’m always-”

“Afraid that it’ll fall out of your pocket when you’re jogging,” Louis finished, rolling his eyes. “I know you, Payno.”

Liam just pulled him closer and kissed his temple. It didn’t feel quite as good as the hunger swirling inside him, but he didn’t stop to think about that. 

When they got home, Zayn immediately pulled Louis into the tightest of hugs. Zayn hated when Louis had classes back to back; he didn’t get to see him until well into the evening. “I missed you,” Zayn murmured into his hair. 

“Missed you too.” Louis melted into the embrace. He could so suddenly feel the build of Zayn’s body against him, the firm stomach, the small frame, and he wanted to pull away so badly. He didn’t want Zayn to be able to feel every disgusting inch of his own build. 

When the five of them cuddled on the couch, later that night, lazily watching TV, Louis made sure to be on the outside, close enough to touch, but too far away to feel.

-

It went like that for a while. For months upon months, Louis scurried out of bed with no time for breakfast, never stopping for lunch, only picking at his food for dinner. His university mandated dining dollars remained untouched in his account. He lied his way through meals, eating only what he had to in order to stay standing. He loved the feeling of hunger even more, waiting after each snack to feel his guts twisting, searching for more nutrients to digest. He loved it, couldn’t stop loving it, he wanted to be hungry, he loved being hungry, he wanted to _eat,_ he loved it, he was so hungry, so miserable, but he loved it, didn’t he?

Somewhere along the line, a barrier formed between him and his boys. They were supposed to be a unit, a group of five, no special relationships, no special treatment. But Louis had this secret misery that he buried himself in, and his boys had school and jobs and friends and it kind of became NiallHarryLiamZayn and then Louis, tagging along for the ride. 

He’d missed meals the four of them shared, he’d skipped events, he’d gotten out of bed early, even earlier than Liam, he’d done everything in his power to avoid eating, to avoid being noticed, and it was killing him. 

It killed him on nights like these, nights when he said he was out with friends, when he had to sit alone in the dark and wait until he could go home and lie even more, telling fake stories, made up jokes, describing meals he never ate. It killed him when the wind blew, its spring chill settling into his bones, making him shiver so fiercely. He used to handle the cold so well, braving snow and rain with nothing more than a sweatshirt. These days, he needed a coat and mittens and a scarf and thick socks and layers and still, he was never warm, he was always so cold, so hungry, so miserable. 

He just felt so _alone_. 

It was hard, was the thing. He hadn’t considered it, back in September, skipping meals that first day, how hard it would be. How isolated he would become. He never went out with friends anymore. He had a list, on his phone, a list of meals he knew, of excuses he could use. 

_I had this spaghetti with pesto and garlic bread. It wasn’t better than your pasta, of course, Haz._

_I got a muffin from the coffee shop on campus. It was alright; there weren’t enough blueberries._

_Drama let out early so I got tacos from the food truck._

All lies. All alone. 

Sometimes he couldn’t lie. Sometimes, it was date night, or Harry made him a special dinner, or he felt like he was going to fall over any moment. Sometimes, he had to eat. Sometimes, he gave in. There were nights when he thought he couldn’t do it anymore, when he was just so hungry and just so miserable that he caved and ate a whole serving, maybe two, and it felt good to be full, but only for a moment. He ate, and then he remembered that he’d have to hold back in the coming days, eat even less than normal, starve himself that much more. He was always in pain, these days. 

It killed him when he knew how much it would hurt his boys, if they ever knew how much he was hurting himself. 

He walked home, gloved hands shoved in his pocket, his mind going a million miles an hour. 

_I’m tired of being hungry. I’m tired of being hungry. No- I’m afraid to gain weight. I’m afraid to gain weight. I have to keep it up while I can. I have to keep it up while I can. I’m so hungry. I want to be skinny. I don’t have anything but my appearance. I need to be skinny. I’m so hungry._

He didn’t stop that spring, or that summer. It was harder, without school to fill his time, but he worked, and he slept, and he tried to fill all his time with any activity but eating. 

It actually kind of worked. 

Louis got _complimented_. All the time. In shops or parks or museums, he’d be stopped, and people would compliment his clothes and his skin and his hair and it felt so much better than the hunger ever did. It made the hunger worth it. 

“When did you get so skinny?” Zayn would tease, wrapping his arms around Louis from the back. “You’re so tiny, my tiny Lou.”

“Let’s get some ice cream in you,” Niall would say, leading him to the popsicle stand in the zoo he worked at, getting them free cones. “You’re so small, Lou.”

“Should I make extra for you?” Liam would ask in the mornings, the days Louis didn’t have a class to run off to. “You look like you could use some pancakes, you’re so thin these days.”

“Try my new recipe,” Harry would demand. “I added pesto because I know you like it. I want to make things you’ll actually eat, you know? You’re so skinny.”

Louis’ blood ran cold every time someone commented on his weight. He didn’t get it, when people would say he was skinny. He couldn’t see it in himself yet. He only saw his stomach and his thighs and his arms and just how big they all were. 

Except, he did notice other things about himself. He couldn’t ignore the way his collarbones were much more evident, the way his elbows were sharper, the way his shoulders jutted out, the way he could feel his spine when he sat against a hard chair. He could feel his bones but he could also feel the fat and he wasn’t ready to stop, he wasn’t ready for the bones to go away, he needed the _fat_ to go first. 

_I’m tired of being hungry. I’m tired of being hungry. No- I’m afraid to gain weight. I’m afraid to gain weight. I have to keep it up while I can. I have to keep it up while I can. I’m so hungry. I want to be skinny. I don’t have anything but my appearance. I need to be skinny. I’m so hungry._

Of course, it all caught up to him eventually. 

“Last first day of uni, yeah?” Louis asked, smiling at his boys. “Get in, then, lemme get a picture.”

It was August, almost a full year since the accidental beginning, almost a full year of hunger and misery and bones and compliments, and all Louis could do was press on. 

“Lou,” Liam whined. “You’re not our dad, you don’t need a picture.”

“I’m just so proud of us.” Louis sniffed dramatically and pretended to wipe away a tear. “We’re all grown up now.”

Harry struck ridiculous poses as Louis took pictures, Niall mimicking him, Zayn not even trying to smile, and Liam beaming at him. Menaces, all of them, but Louis wouldn’t trade them for anything. 

“We’ll all be home before dinner, right?” Harry asked, clutching his bag at his side. “We have to celebrate.”

Louis’ stomach clenched at the mention of dinner, but he didn’t acknowledge it. He’d have to eat tonight, but he could hold off for a few days after. He always did. 

“I start late today, but I’ll be home around five,” Louis confirmed. “We’ll all eat and drink and have a lovely night, now _go_.” He ushed them to the door. “Don’t be late.”

He kissed each of them as they walked out the door, and then he was alone in their house. He wondered when the four of them became a unit, when he was cast aside. He thought he might have done that to himself. 

It was barely nine, that morning, and he didn’t start until noon. Louis wanted to go back to sleep, more than anything in the _world_ he wanted to be back in bed, but there were chores to do, there were messes to clean, and anyway, the bed would be too cold and empty without anyone in it with him. 

He tried to clean, he really did, and he managed to straighten up the bathroom, make their bed, fold the laundry, but when he reached the kitchen he felt that he suddenly couldn’t do it anymore. He needed a rest. His joints ached, his back hurt, and his head pounded. He gripped onto the counter, steadying himself as waves of nausea overcame him. Stumbling, he made his way to the sink, dry heaving over it, spitting down the drain. There was nothing in him to come up, but god, he felt sick, he needed to throw up. Everything felt _bad_ , so suddenly, so horribly. 

Louis closed his eyes, trying to calm the pain, but he caught a flash of an idea in his mind. An alternate universe, maybe, a _what-if_ scenario. 

_He was dizzy and the world was spinning and everything was crazy and blurry and technicolor but black and white and he was so so confused and so so scared._

_Louis clutched the counter to keep himself standing, but the whirlwind of nausea wasn’t dying down._

_He stepped forward to head to the couch to lay down and soothe his pounding skull, but he lost his balance. He fell to the ground and banged his head on the counter with a loud_ **_thud_ ** _and a sickening_ **_crack_ **.

_And he was gone._

He dry heaved into the sink again. Nothing came out. 

Louis was crying, then, and he couldn’t stop himself as he sunk to the ground, back against the cabinets, spine pressing uncomfortably into the wood. 

He felt like he was about to die, about to lose everything about himself, and he found that he was _terrified._ It’s not like he’d never thought of that before. _That_ being dying, _that_ being ending his suffering, _that_ being ending his own life and leaving the misery behind. But all of a sudden, he was gripped with pure terror at leaving his life behind. He was on the cusp of everything he ever wanted. He wanted to graduate, to get a real job, to be with his boys, to have a family of his own, to grow old and gray with his four favorite people. He wanted to be happy again, because really, he hadn’t been, not for the past year at least. 

Not eating was _killing him_ . It all came crashing down, the loneliness, the misery, the hunger, the pain. There was no end in sight for any of it, and he just felt so hopeless. He was hungry and he wanted to _eat_ but he didn’t want to gain weight and he liked his bones and he liked stepping onto the scale and seeing a number that was much too low to be healthy and he liked the twist in his gut but there was no end in sight and he hated it _all_. He just wanted a brief reprise, just one moment free of shame and guilt, just one moment to be content, to be full, to be happy. That one moment just never seemed to come, and there was no end in sight. 

In the end, he was too weak to do anything but sit on the kitchen floor, crying into his knees. He didn’t go to class that day. 

-

Now, it's not like Harry, Niall, Liam, and Zayn had never noticed Louis's weight loss. It's not like they hadn't realized that he wasn't eating much with them anymore, making sure his schedule clashed with theirs and waking up late to avoid breakfast. It wasn't like they didn't notice anything, it was just. 

_They didn't notice._

Harry had been so concentrated on passing his classes and perfecting his techniques that he didn't realize that Louis never cleaned his sampling plate. Niall had been so excited about his job at the zoo and his degree that he hadn't realized that Louis never finished his ice cream when his boyfriends visited him on the job. Liam had been so worried about staying in shape and training that he didn't realize that Louis never ate the breakfasts he prepared. Zayn had been so concerned about his artwork not making it, so stressed over the graphic novel he was hired to draw, that he never noticed that Louis would stay up with him and bring him food to concentrate but never ate himself. They noticed his bones, and how thin he was, and how sad his eyes were, but they didn’t look for _why_.

They had been so worried about themselves and their own ambitions that they didn't pay attention to Louis or his struggles.

They’d hate themselves for it, later. _Selfish_ , they’d call themselves. _Selfish, so selfish. He saved you and you did nothing for him, you let him hurt. So, so selfish._

When the four of them walked home together, that August day, that last first day of uni, they didn’t realize it yet. They didn’t hate themselves yet. They didn’t notice how the four of them had become a unit, how Louis had shut himself off. They didn’t notice that he needed them, so very desperately. 

“I’m making that chocolate cake that we all like tonight,” Harry told them. “I wanted it to be a surprise, but you’d all find out anyway.”

“Make it a surprise from Louis, then,” Zayn said, bumping his shoulder against Harry’s arm. “He’s seemed down lately, hasn’t he?”  
  


“That’s why I asked to take this guy home,” Niall chimed in. He held Liam’s hand on one side, but had a tiny hedgehog in the carrier in his other hand. “It’s small like him. He’s such a hedgehog, isn’t he?”

Liam squeezed Niall’s hand. “He is.” His eyes glinted happily. “I decided not to teach the early morning classes at the gym this semester. I’ve signed up for some afternoon slots.” He was already excited, thinking of lazy mornings in with his littlest, most precious boy.

“You get to sleep in?” Zayn asked. “I’m tired of being the last one in bed.”

“I’ll sleep in and cuddle with anyone who wants it,” Liam agreed. “Louis’ll like that, right?”

“Hope so,” Harry murmured. 

“I’m almost done with my book,” Zayn told them. “Lou won’t have to stay up with me anymore. He gets all of us at once now.”

They walked in silence, for just a moment. 

“We haven’t been around that much, have we?” Harry asked, like he was just realizing it. “Lou hasn’t either.”

Niall’s grip on the carrier tightened. “No, we haven’t.” He was scared, for some reason. Nervous. “We’ve all been busy.”

Their pace quickened. They didn’t quite know why. 

“We’ll make it up to him,” Liam said. “We’ll be around more.”

They realized that yes, they did in fact have reason to be scared, when they got home to an unlocked door. Louis always locked the door when he left. 

They stood in the doorway, afraid to walk in. “He’s in class right now, isn’t’ he?” Zayn asked, lowly. 

“It’s only four.” Harry bit his lip. “I don’t feel good.”

“Me neither.” Liam let go of Niall’s hand and shouldered himself inside. “Maybe he fell asleep?”

They crept through the house, the four of them a unit, and he wasn’t on the couch, or in the bed, or in the bathroom. Maybe he just forgot to lock the door. Maybe nothing was wrong. 

Harry went to the kitchen, leaving his boys in the living room, and he fell to his knees. 

-

The dull _thud_ of Harry falling to the ground snapped Louis awake. He was so suddenly aware of how his body ached, how ill he felt, how _embarrassing_ this was about to be. He was about to be found out. He couldn’t do this. 

Harry just sat in front of him, reaching out, so carefully. Louis couldn’t respond. He just rested his head back against his knees and began to cry. 

“Lou,” Harry said, hoarsely. “Lou, what’s wrong?”

Louis just shook his head, his whole body trembling. 

Niall came in next, hedgehog forgotten. Liam and Zayn followed, almost scrambling into the kitchen, skidding to halts behind Harry. 

“Lou,” Liam choked out. “ _Baby._ ”

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” Harry told him, frantically, craning his neck to look at his boys. “He’s just here, I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Zayn moved to crouch by Louis’ side, and he hesitantly rested a hand on his shoulder. Bone poked at his palm, even through his shirt. “Lou,” he said, ever so softly. “Can you get up?”

Louis just shook his head again. 

Zayn looked to Liam, who immediately understood. He stood on Louis’ other side. “I’m gonna pick you up, is that okay?” He didn’t wait for an answer before hauling Louis into his arms. He paled at how _light_ he was. 

And Louis- he knew it was over. He knew there wasn’t a lie he could tell that would get him out of this, there wasn’t an excuse he could come up with to explain why he skipped class to cry on the kitchen floor. He knew he had to give up.

So he did. 

When his back hit the soft cushions of the couch, he started _wailing_. It was horrible and humiliating but cathartic and finally, finally he wasn’t alone. He clung to Liam like he was the only thing keeping him alive.

“I’m so hungry,” he sobbed. “I’m starving and I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to be fat but I’m so hungry I can’t handle it I can’t do it.”

“What do you want, darling?” Zayn asked, stroking down Louis’ back, counting the knobs of his spine, counting his ribs, counting how many days and weeks and months it must have taken for Louis to be this desperate and this thin.”Anything in the world that you want, we’ll make.”

Louis cried harder into Liam’s neck. “I don’t know,” he wept. “I can’t ever know.”

Niall clutched the back of the couch, watching his boy fall apart. He couldn’t take it. He couldn’t forgive himself, probably never would, because it was _his fault_ that Louis was crumbling. He hadn’t noticed. “Do you want cake?” he managed. “Harry was gonna make the chocolate one we like.”

“I can make anything,” Harry added. “If you don’t know, I will.”

“I don’t know,” Louis cried again. “I don’t know.”

And Harry didn’t know what to do either, really. He didn’t know what was best for Louis. He realized he didn’t even know what Louis _liked_ , because he was connecting the dots, he was tracing the lies of the past year, figuring out what must be the truth, that Louis didn’t go out with friends, that he didn’t eat on campus, that he didn’t eat _period_. But he had to try, didn’t he?

Zayn watched as Harry stumbled into the kitchen. He wanted to join him, to make Louis food, to _feed_ him, to make him stop crying, but he had to stay with his boy. He couldn’t leave him. So he kept stroking his back, kept counting the bones, kept choking on his own breath. 

“It’s okay,” Liam was whispering. “It’s okay, baby, you’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Louis didn’t feel like everything was going to be okay. He felt like Harry was going to bring out the fattiest dinner he could ever make, he felt like he was never going to feel that delicious claw of hunger again, he felt like he was going to gain weight and balloon out and never be happy. 

“It’s okay,” Liam repeated. “I love you so much. You’re okay. We love you so so much.”

Louis just held on tighter. 

-

It took a long time to calm him down, that day. He cried until Liam’s shirt was wet. He cried into the dinner Harry brought, a light, brothy soup that warmed him from the inside and stilled the unrelenting pain in his stomach. He cried in the shower, and in the bed, and all through the night. He had been so pent up, so sad, so alone, he didn’t know what to do besides cry. 

But, he calmed down. He calmed down, and he took a breath, and then another, and then he fell asleep, cheeks wet, nose clogged. 

He missed his whole first week of class, but so did his boys. School could wait. Louis couldn’t. 

They fought a lot, after that. Screaming matches over breakfast, passive-aggressive comments over dinner. They lashed out, hating themselves, hating what they did to each other, hating their situation. Nobody blamed Louis but himself. 

But they made it.

They went to doctors, and they went to therapists, and they worked to recover together. Louis had suffered, silently, alone, and they wouldn’t let that happen again. Not to him, not to anyone else. 

Louis hated recovery. He missed being hungry. He hated gaining weight. He had a panic attack, one night, noticing that his ribs were less defined. He shut himself in the bathroom for hours the day he reached a healthy weight. He missed the way his collarbones were much more evident, the way his elbows were sharper, the way his shoulders jutted out, the way he could feel his spine when he sat against a hard chair.

But he wasn’t so miserable anymore. He went out for dinner with his friends. He slept in with his boys. He played with the hedgehog Niall brought him. Slowly, ever so slowly, he became a _person_ again, he became more than an eating disorder. He ate all the ice cream Niall got him, ate the breakfast Liam made him, ate the recipes Harry tried out. 

It wasn’t okay, for a long time. It wasn’t okay all the time when he _was_ okay. But that was fine. 

He was getting there. 

**Author's Note:**

> this bitch is So personal i took some lines directly from my diary from when I was at my worst and it kinda hurt to write this and I feel its obvious that I didn't know how to end it bc I'm not at my ending yet but I wanted it to be hopeful and happy and show that eating disorders take so much out of you but you can still be a person in the end, you can recover and be happy afterwards, and you Can get there. its okay if you're struggling and if you're not where you want to be because you have Time to get there. don't be afraid to seek out help and if anyone needs someone to talk to about their ed Please do not hesitate to talk to Me. (my tumblr is snowglobegays as well)
> 
> I'm gonna go cleanse myself of this I cannot Believe I wrote an ot5 fic in one sitting no less. if u know me irl please don't tell me. goodbye. ilove u.


End file.
